


It's in his bones

by cosmosatyrus



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Babysitting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmosatyrus/pseuds/cosmosatyrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Leonard McCoy, MD, PhD, CMO of the Enerprise, etc. etc. takes on the responsibility (and distinct pleasure) of watching little Demora Sulu for the night. It's fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's in his bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akitron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitron/gifts).



“He’s settling in alright,” the signal was coming in clearly and it was a joy to see his little girl’s face without static or interference. She wasn’t so little anymore, but he would always see the tiny face of the infant he once held in his arms and longed to be in her orbit again, if only for a few moments. “We’re going to take him to a football game later today and see if we can’t get him drunk off of some hot cocoa.”  
  
Leonard laughed in spite of himself, wanting to admonish her, but knowing he’d have done the same thing in her place and probably did worse at her age. “Well, sweetpea, I’m glad to hear he’s doing alright. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  
  
She smirked at him in a lopsided smile that reminded him all too much of her mother, “I feel like getting your friend drunk at a football game is just about the pinnacle of a cultural experience here, Daddy.”  
  
“You going tailgating beforehand?” he asked.  
  
“Hell, yeah!” Jo clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake, but she could have been cussing left and right and he wouldn’t have cared— not that he’d tell her that, mind. “Sorry, Daddy. I mean, heck, yeah, we’re tailgating! It’s the homecoming game against Sandy Springs, which I think we’re probably going to win, but we’ve got some veggie burgers all ready to go.”  
  
The timer blinked on, warning him that his subspace allotment for the day was almost up. Comms on the station were excellent and the allotment had been at least three times more than he’d had on the ship, but even twenty-six hours of subspace a day wouldn’t have been enough. Jo was becoming a young woman and his only regret in life was that he couldn’t be there on the front porch with a phaser rifle for anyone who came a-calling. “I gotta go, sugar. I love you. My best to your mama.”  
  
“Awwww,” her shoulders slumped, breaking his already splintered heart. “Alright, Daddy, I love you.”  
  
“Love you, sweetpea. Go Peach Tree Lions!”  
  
She grinned, “Go Lions! Roar!”  
  
The subspace connection cut out before he could extend his goodbyes and, melancholy and glad at once, he ambled over to the cabinet where his stash of brandy sat, half-empty. The curved bottle sat there like an amber-filled woman, tempting him to forget his troubles. He closed the cabinet with a sigh, thinking aloud, “Maybe later, darlin’.” Jim had some business aboard ship today and wouldn’t be by until later. The engineers almost certainly wouldn’t want the captain’s opinion on ship’s operations and how thus-and-such ought to be built, but knowing Jim, he’d make his wishes known whether they wanted to hear or not… stubborn S.O.B.. He sat down at the little table, sorting out requisition forms and reviewing medical records for missing data that had been lost when the ship went down. There was a lot to do, of course, but he had nothing but time in which to do it and the work would help him keep his mind off of Jo. Even though she was in the safest place in the galaxy, he worried about her and missed her terribly. Picking up the PADD where he’d started the medical report on Spock’s injuries, his thoughts wandered to how very little he knew about Vulcan physiology. Their reproductive cycle, for example, was a mystery, and maybe the green-blooded hobgoblin didn’t think it was any of his business, but dammit, he’s a doctor and he needs to know how those peculiar hormonal cycles affect other systems. He’d been collecting data at every opportunity and was wondering at the slow rise in average testosterone levels over the past several years when the door chimed. “Enter!”  
  
Expecting Jim, he was surprised at seeing Sulu in his doorway, “I’m sorry to bother you, sir.”  
  
“Come on in,” he stood up, clearing away some of the PADDs from the table, “What can I do you for, Sulu? I’ve got some brandy…”  
  
“Uh, no thank you, sir. I…” he hesitated, “have a favor to ask.”  
  
“Shoot,” Leonard crossed his arms, sitting on the edge of the table to listen.  
  
“Ben and I were going to go out and we were hoping that you’d watch Dem for the night.” Sulu’s nervous, pinched face was all too familiar. There had been times when Jocelyn was working and he was on call at the hospital and there had been no choice but to ask someone to watch Jo on short notice. He knew all too well what the Lieutenant was feeling and couldn’t say no.  
  
Thanking God for every time someone had come to his rescue, he clapped Sulu on the shoulder, smiling half to himself at the cosmic justice of the situation, “It’d be my pleasure,” he answered, “It’s just me and a stack of medical records tonight, so she can stay the night if that’s what you need.” Mentally naming the muscle groups that relaxed in a cascade from Sulu’s occipitofrontalis to the pectoralis major, he asked, “What time should I expect her?”  
  
“Is 1900 hours too early?” the Lieutenant asked, the muscles in his face tightening again (orbicularis oculi, zygomaticus major and minor, slight movement of the nasalis…).  
Leonard shrugged and shook his head, “Not at all, Lieutenant. I’ll be glad for the company.” A much relieved Lieutenant Sulu departed and the doctor retreated to poke at Spock’s medical records again. Deep in the throes of charts and calculations, Jim came in, using an override code to bypass security protocols. Leonard sighed rising to harangue more than greet his new guest, “Don’t you ever knock?”  
  
“Bones!” he grinned, certainly up to some kind of mischief, “You want to see the ship?”  
  
“Nope,” Leonard replied, kicking his feet up onto the other chair and crossing his arms for emphasis.  
  
Looking puzzled, Jim sat on the edge of the table, knocking aside several PADDs in the process. “You got a hot date?”  
  
Laughing, he shrugged, “In a manner of speaking. I’m watching Sulu’s little girl tonight. _He’s_ got a hot date with his husband. Medically speaking, I can’t deny a man much needed R &R with his spouse, if you know what I mean.”  
  
“I think I do,” he replied, smirking, “But you think you’ll be alright?”  
  
Leonard raised an eyebrow, "I have extensive training in pediatrics and I am a father. I think I can handle it, Jim."  
  
The captain put up his hands defensively, “Alright, my mistake.” Jim’s mischievous grin returned, “D’you think she’d like to see the ship?”  
  
“No.” Leonard replied.  
  
“But Bones—,” he pleaded.  
  
“No.”  
  
“C’mon, Bones,” the captain insisted, “the med bay is almost done.”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Leonard refused. “I am not taking a six-year-old on a half-finished starship without her fathers’ permission. Out of the question.” Just as he was mounting a scowl to counteract Jim’s stubborn charm, the door chimed. “Enter!” He shot one last dirty look at Jim before the door opened. Both men were dressed to the nines, each holding the hand of a nervous-looking little girl. By instinct, Leonard took a knee so he could speak to her face-to-face. “Well, hey there, darlin’. Ain’t you a pretty little thing? C’mon in and see your old uncle Leonard.”  
  
She looked away, clinging to the Lieutenant’s leg as he explained apologetically, “She’s a little shy.”  
  
Ben, the Lieutenant’s better half, handed him a blue sparkly suitcase. “Thank you, Doctor McCoy,” he said, still holding Demora’s hand, “this means a lot to Hikaru and me.”  
  
“It’s my pleasure,” Leonard replied. “Is there anything I need to know?”  
  
“Bedtime is at 2030 hours, she won’t eat tomatoes or Tellarite food,” Ben explained.  
  
“She doesn’t have any allergies that I know of,” the Lieutenant continued, “but she won’t drink milk and has to have her bear or she won’t sleep.” He turned to his husband, “Did you pack her bear?”  
  
Ben gave him a look, “I packed her bear, two changes of clothes, extra jammies, her toothbrush, the toothpaste she likes…”  
  
Leonard blithely extracted the aforementioned bear from the bag and pretended to have a very serious whispered conversation with it. Demora, suddenly interested, began to work her way slowly from behind the Lieutenant’s leg, grinning. “His name is Walter,” she whispered.  
  
Ignoring Sulu, he addressed Demora, “Well, he tells me he’s a little nervous about staying here tonight. Do you reckon you can help me make him feel a little more comfortable?”  
  
“Walter’s brave,” she said, still whispering, “but he misses his cave and he’s very hungry.”  
  
“Well,” Leonard had stopped listening to her fathers explain every last childhood quirk. This was not his first rodeo. “Let’s get him something to eat and see if we can’t make him feel at home. Can you help me?” She nodded. “We gotta get rid of your dads first. We’re having cake for dinner and I might get in trouble if they find out. You won’t tell, will you?” She shook her head and grinned.  
  
She started pushing her fathers out the door, “Bye, Daddy! Bye Babi! See you later! Love you!”  
  
Flabbergasted and reluctant, they hesitated to leave, but Leonard shooed them away, “Go on now. We’ll be fine. See you tomorrow. Have a good time.”  
  
Jim, wide-eyed, remarked, “Have you considered a career in diplomacy?”  
  
“Ninety percent of parenting is diplomacy, Jim,” he replied. “Now, about that cake: what kind of cake does Walter want, sweetpea?”  
  
“Salmon!” She replied, jumping and throwing her hands in the air for emphasis, “with honey on top!”  
  
Leonard nodded, unfazed, “Alright, but I’m having red velvet cake. You ever had red velvet cake?”  
  
She gave him a side-eyed skeptical look, “Nuh-uh. Is it weird?”  
  
He laughed, “Nah, just something my Grams used to make for me. There’s a place not far from here that makes one that ain’t too bad and we can get tacos after if you’re still hungry.”  
  
“Daddy and Babi like fish tacos,” scrunching her nose, she stuck out her tongue. “I don’t like fish tacos. Walter likes fish tacos, but he’s a bear.”  
  
“I like tacos.” Jim chimed in, “Mind if I tag along?”  
  
“Is that alright with you, sugar?” Leonard asked her. She nodded and he shrugged, “Well, come on then. Cake first, then tacos.”  
  
She let out a whoop and a “Hooray!” that made him laugh and long for time lost with Jo at that age. Lest he get too maudlin, he reminded himself that Jo was a fine young woman and set his tastebuds to expect a moist slice of red velvet with cream cheese icing.


End file.
